


The Little Red Riding Hood

by Tsumichama



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Crack, M/M, apologetic author
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-03
Updated: 2014-09-03
Packaged: 2018-02-16 01:22:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2250585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tsumichama/pseuds/Tsumichama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Woods aren't the only dangerous places for innocent little girls (and boys)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Little Red Riding Hood

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [小红帽](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2357465) by [gottahaveu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gottahaveu/pseuds/gottahaveu)



> Sooo, this one is dedicated to an anon on tumblr who asked for a little red riding hood AU. This is pure crack, you have been warned.

The little red riding hood

 

Once upon a time, in a world with Kings and powers, there was a family the members of which were very fond of the color red. That family was called HOMRA. Members weren’t all related by blood; they came from different places, but that didn’t make their bond weaker. As a symbol of that solidarity, they all bore a red mark on different spots on their bodies. Some had it on their back, some on their chest, some on more private (and to be honest, quite embarrassing) places. But no matter the spot, they were all very proud of their marks.

Among the members of that happy family, there was one who was prouder of his mark than the others. It was a young boy of age 19 and he was always wearing a red _hooded_ jacket. He was usually seen _riding_ a skateboard and because the young boy wasn’t exactly _tall_ for his age, people from HOMRA liked to call him little red riding hood. Needless to say he didn’t like the nickname. He said it was a _girly_ name, that he preferred Yatagarasu. His loving family members would counter that _Misaki,_ the boy’s first name, was girly anyway, so it was even more fitting. Poor little red riding hood couldn’t find any argument against that but throw a tantrum (he was a turbulent boy), but it wasn’t to make anyone change their mind.

Given that he liked his insignia more than his fellows did, he also respected the most the person who gave them that symbol, Suoh Mikoto, the Red King. He was therefore ready to make any commission as long as it was for his King’s sake. Because of that enthusiasm, he was charged of pretty much the totality of HOMRA’s errands, but the brave boy never complained.

That day, he got assigned a mission by their beloved leader’s right hand, Kusanagi Izumo.

“Yata-chan,” the latter said, “go bring our granny this bottle of bourbon and these packets of cigarettes.” Barman of his profession, he had received a delivery earlier and thought ‘granny’ might like to have some.

The teen’s eyes widened. He had never heard of a granny in HOMRA before that and anyway, it seemed rather scandalous to offer such unhealthy gifts to an elderly person. “Kusanagi-san-"

“It’s ‘Mother’,” the barman corrected.

“Eh?”

“Yata-chan,” he said theatrically, “don’t you think I deserve that title, after all I’ve done for our family?”

Well, that was true. Kusanagi, even if he was officially the Red King's right hand, one could also say he was his very brain, as he did practically all of his work. The barman looked really eager to be called 'mother' so Yata thought there was no harm in giving him that and besides, he could accept without having to actually say it.

“I… guess. A-anyway, who’s that granny? Where does she live?”

“How can you not remember granny, Yata-chan? The person who gave us all our insignia?”

He was more and more puzzled. He had met their King only once, the room was dark and he was intimidated, but he was quite sure _he_ wasn’t a _woman_ and wasn’t even that old anyway. He concluded that mother just wasn’t right in the head (and probably so was he for calling the guy ‘mother’ in the first place) so he decided just to ask where to find ‘granny’ and get away from all this craziness. (If he had been any smarter though, he would have seen that Kusanagi was merely making fun of him, but he wasn’t known for his intelligence.)

After confirming his exact destination, Yata was riding his skateboard at once, excited to see his hero again. He was on such a hurry that on his way, he bumped on someone then both fell on the ground.

“Sorry!” Yata stuttered, confused. He looked up at the other person and at his appearance, he exclaimed, “A wolf?!”

“Tsk, are you an idiot?” the so-called wolf spat. Exactly: an idiot. The guy before him had to be an idiot, because he wasn’t a wolf, no. While he was wearing an animal-eared hood, it weren’t wolf’s ears but [cat’s](http://www.zerochan.net/1713181). That boy was maybe too lost in a universe of little girls roving in the woods and meeting dangerous animals. Or maybe he hadn’t seen the tail attached to his jacket because it definitely wasn’t a wolf’s tail either. But that still didn’t make him any less an idiot for wolves couldn’t wander freely in the city while cats could. Such was the speech that was going on the boy’s overactive mind.

From that inner monologue, the reader might be able to tell that he too was truly an idiot, for he wasn’t a cat but a _monkey_ , as his name, Fushimi _Saru_ hiko suggested. He was a boy of the same age as Yata, working for the special police, known as Scepter4. He was wearing a cat’s disguise because his boss was an eccentric freak with questionable hobbies. This time he had decided that they all would do their patrol wearing costumes he had picked himself. It was power harassment, really, for there was no way of refusing to participate with the look the captain was making when they all seemed to hesitate. Fushimi was just glad he hadn’t taken the pleasantry to the point of making him wear a monkey-costume because then he would have resigned just to avoid taking part in that farce.

While Fushimi was having these thoughts lying on the ground, Yata had stood and picked up his things. “I’m really sorry,” he said holding out his hand to help the other stand, “I was in such hurry that I didn’t see you in front of me, um… Mr. Wolf.”

Taking his hand and standing, ‘Mr. Wolf’ said, “Tsk. I’m not a wolf. The name’s Fushimi. Fushimi Saruhiko.”

“Saruhiko, then. I’m Yata.”

“Yata who?” asked Fushimi.

“Yata … M-Misaki,” he stuttered and my, he was blushing.

Fushimi found the idiot’s reaction very amusing and saw in him an opportunity to brighten up his boring day. “Aah, Mi~sa~kii,” he drawled, “such a nice, _delicate_ name.”

“What did you say?!” Yata snapped , “You’re not one to say anything about my name, _Monkey._ ”

“Mm, we’re on a first name basis already, eh, Mi~sa~kii. So where were you rushing blindly?”

“Stop calling me that, it even sounds creepy when you say it.” Yata requested. “I’m going to visit Mikoto-san in prison.”

“Mikoto as in Suoh Mikoto?” the other asked. “Why would you want to waste your time visiting that delinquent?” There was a mix of jealousy and instinctive repulsion in this question. He had never liked that one guest of Scepter4’s prison. The leader of a band of hooligans like HOMRA had to be just as rotten as the rest after all.

“You stupid Monkey, Mikoto-san isn't a delinquent!” Yata protested.

“Then why is he in prison, stupid Misaki?”

“Told you to stop calling me that!”

“Then, stupid little red riding hood.”

“Eh? How did you know about that name?” (He didn’t think about contesting the ‘stupid’ part)

“So there are other people calling you that? Well, the skateboard, the red hood, the height and the girly name: elementary my dear Misaki. Anyway, you haven’t answered my question.”

“What question?”

The guy was truly an idiot, Fushimi thought. “If your Mikoto-san isn’t a delinquent, then why is he in prison?”

“Well, I’ve only met him once but Mikoto-san is a real nice person! And you see, there are lots of nice people unfairly sent in prison. Have you never heard of Musashi Miyamoto, ignorant Monkey?”

“He never went to prison.”

Yata’d always thought all heroes had gone to prison, so he was quite destabilized. Still, he couldn’t let it show, “A-anyway, I don’t have to justify anything.” He paused. “And the prison might close soon, so see you Monkey.”

Yata apparently wanted to end the little chat soon but his interlocutor was just starting to have his fun. “You don’t have to rush, visiting hours only start in two hours,” the cunning monkey lied.

“Oh, really?” Yata was a credulous boy. “Then I guess I… I-I’ll go shopping until then. Thanks for the information, Saruhiko!” and he rode back in the opposite direction to his initial one.

Fushimi wasn’t pleased with that brusque leaving. He still had many things to discuss with Misaki (rather to tease him with), and it was insulting that a worthless thug in prison would get the preference over him. He therefore drew up a plan to fix that aberration. He esteemed that the two hours he had managed to get would be more than enough to set it up.

He had heard that the Red King could get off his cell anytime he wanted and yet he didn’t leave. If he could convince him to do so before Misaki’s visit, he could take his place and have a _nice_ talk with Misaki. The prison’s cell was dark enough, Misaki stupid enough and apparently had seen his King once only anyway, so his trick could work, he thought.

With his action plan settled, he worked on its setting up at once. When he’d finished the unexpected extra-work the captain had given him, he went to the Red King’s cells with a bunch of arguments to make him leave immediately. He was feeling nervous and kind of afraid to affront HOMRA’s leader, even if only verbally, but it wasn’t much to pay for the outcome.

Great was his surprise (and relief) when all went even better than he’d hoped. He’d even managed to get his hands on one of Suoh Mikoto’s change of clothes. He thought that slipping them on would help him fool the idiot even easier.

When the prey arrived, Fushimi made sure to hide his face the better he could. He therefore sat on the darkest corner of the cell.

“Ah, Mikoto-san, good day! You- do you remember me? I’m Yata, Yatagarasu.”

Little red riding hood was visibly nervous; it would help our wolf for his plan. “Hmm,” he said by way of greeting, thinking that the less he’d talk, the less the probability of being found out would be.

“I- Kusanagi-san sent these: a bottle of bourbon and packets of cigarettes.”

“Oh, thanks. Put them on that table there,” the fake King said in the huskiest voice he could manage and he had to admit, it gave his voice a quite _attractive_  air.

Yata complied at once and as he got closer, he noted something wrong with ‘Mikoto-san’’s clothes. “Mikoto-san,” he started, “do those blues treat you well here? Your trousers seem a little loose.”

“All the better to, um… to run with, Mi~sa~kii” the predator invented.

“I… I see.” He really was a credulous boy. “But Mikoto-san, c-could you stop calling me like that? Sounds like a creepy monkey I met before coming here.”

“Hmm,” the other replied. The sound was ambiguous and could as well having been interpreted as an agreement as a rejection to his request. But Yata was an optimist and took it as an agreement while truly it was the contrary.

When he let his eyes wander higher, he saw that something else was odd. “Mikoto-san, and your shirt, isn’t it a little baggy?”

“It’s… it was all fat. All the better to keep in shape, Mi~sa~kii.”

Yata was at despair that Mikoto-san wouldn’t stop calling him like that stupid monkey earlier did but thought it might be rude to ask him twice. And the last thing he wanted was to be rude with his hero. Besides, he thought something was definitely wrong. He had talked about fat but somehow Yata knew it couldn’t be. It wasn’t that Kamamoto fatty in front of him after all. Mikoto-san, he was sure, was all muscles instead. With all these suspicions, he looked closer at his interlocutor. He then saw the glint of his glasses and he was certain the Mikoto-san he’d met didn’t wear glasses. “Mikoto-san,” he said, “why are you wearing glasses?”

“All the better to see with, Mi~sa~kii.” Fushimi immediately saw that his game couldn’t last much longer. He was tired of pretending to be that despicable man anyway and he figured that Misaki’s face when he’d discover who was actually with him would be priceless so his lips formed a predatory grin.

Despite not being able to clearly see the other’s face, Yata saw his white teeth glittering in the dark. “M-mikoto-san, why are you showing your teeth like that?”

“All the better to eat you with, Mi~sa~kii,” and the wolf jumped at his prey.

Yata only had enough time to recognize the monkey and then he was mercilessly _eaten_ … but in the most _pleasant_ way, if he was honest.

* * *

**~EXTRA~**

Now one might wonder how the wolf managed to fool the granny out of the cell. It was a curious story.

It started when our wolf returned to his office to execute his plan. He had to make sure that the rumors he’d heard about Suoh Mikoto being able to leave the prison anytime he wanted were true. And who better than the captain, Munakata Reisi, could answer that, he thought so he went to see him.

“Captain,” he asked, “is it true that the Red King is allowed to leave his cell if he wishes?”

 _‘Allowed’ is not the exact term_ , _it is more ‘able’,_ Munakata thought but he didn’t say anything. He was curious to find the reason of his ever-so-aloof subordinate’s sudden interest for their special guest. “Suoh Mikoto can easily leave our facilities anytime he wants,” he replied. It wasn’t a lie per se, it just wasn’t exactly the answer to Fushimi’s question.

“So why is he staying here, then?”

“He… has his reasons,” Munakata answered, and he cleared his throat.

“O-oh…” The teen didn’t actually clue in but decided that Suoh Mikoto’s reasons for staying didn’t truly matter. “But if I can convince him to leave, he can, right?”

The clever captain figured that Fushimi was up to something to make the Red King leave. Far from being worried for Suoh, he was rather worried for his subordinate. “Um, Fushimi-kun,” he said, avoiding the question, “could you file these papers for me? You can take the rest of the day off when you’re finished.”

The teen didn’t seem to appreciate the chore but complied anyway, determined to finish it as soon as he could.

When his subordinate left, Munakata went to see Suoh in his cell where he found him sleeping. Nothing new there though, _one_  of the reasons why he was willingly staying under Scepter4’s custody ( _'one',_ meaning there were others, not necessarily unrelated to his visitor), one of the reasons  was that he could sleep to his heart’s content there. The only drawback to his stay was the waking-up. Munakata had the habit of slamming his face to the wall each time he deigned to pay him a visit. That time was no different, but the Red King was used to the treatment already.

“Glad to see you too, Munakata,” he said then rubbed his eyes. “The fuck are you wearing?” he asked when he saw Munakata’s attire.

“I’m a woodcutter, isn’t that obvious?” Munakata said; he was also participating to Scepter4’s dress up day, by solidarity with his subordinates, he'd say, but he was truly the one who enjoyed it the most, if not the only one who did at all.

 _No_ , Suoh thought, _it’s not obvious_. So yes, Munakata was wearing a woodcutter’s typical costume: check shirt and dungarees but his character and the profession of woodcutter just didn’t seem to match so it made it hard to clue in. The fact that the axe was nowhere to be found also didn’t help to recognize his personage: his sword wasn’t a valid substitute. How did he expect to cut a trunk with that? Nonsense. The Red King knew better than to voice these thoughts; arguments with Munakata, he had learned, were lost battles. “So what’s the reason of your visit today?” he asked instead.

“As you can see, it’s a dress-up day at Scepter4.”

Apparently, there was no way to avoid that subject.

“And?” Suoh asked with no real interest.

“And I thought that maybe you would like to participate.” It wasn’t an indispensable part of his plan, but Munakata thought that making Suoh participate in a cultural event once in his barbarian’s life would be a nice bonus.

“Did you really hope I’d agree to that crazy whim of yours?”

“Naturally, I anticipated that a barbarian of your kind would not understand the interest of such distraction.”

No, Suoh didn’t understand, and he even thought that he didn’t need to be a barbarian to not understand the point of that ridiculous hobby. “Then why did you even bother to ask?”

“I have a deal.”

“Oh, I’m all ears,” Suoh said, but not really meaning his words; he was still quite sleepy.

“If you accept, I shall let you out of your cell for the day.”

The proposition didn’t seem any more tempting. “Do you honestly think I need your permission to get out of here?”

“If you want to avoid an unnecessary visit to the hospital, then yes, you do need it.”

Suoh sighed. This pattern of conversation was familiar to him by then. It could last for hours and Munakata still wouldn’t tire, so accepting could be less bothersome. It wasn’t such a bad deal anyway, so he gave in. “My costume, then,” he demanded.

Munakata smiled. “You will not regret it,” and he threw him a stack of clothes.

Suoh took a look at the pile: there were a cap and a robe. Nothing he would wear while sober. He raised a brow, “What’s that shit?”

“Your costume,” Munakata answered, deadpan.

Suoh looked him in the eyes and set fire on the offending clothes with his flames. When there was nothing left of them, he showed his empty hands to Munakata, “What costume?”

Munakata rubbed his temples. “How rude,” he said. “Fortunately, I saw your barbaric reaction coming and thought of bringing something else.”

He then handed Suoh another pile. This one was a wolf’s disguise. Not a cat’s; a wolf’s, with the suited ears and tail. And joy, it seemed to suit Suoh’s taste better than the previous one. The Red King grinned and started to slowly pull off his shirt, intending to put on a nice show for the Blue King. The latter only rolled his eyes and turned his back to him.

“Prude,” Suoh threw, amused by the reaction.

“Just hurry up,” Munakata retorted. Fushimi might arrive any time and then all his efforts would go to waste.

When he was dressed, Suoh walked to the door, soon followed by Munakata. “So, where are we going now, Munakata?” he asked to a Blue King who seemed to start regretting his invitation while he was starting to have his fun.

“What about a bar,” Munakata proposed, “I’m starting to have a headache.” It promised to be an agitated day. At some point of the day, the tension reached a climax and they started jumping at each other with the clear intention to _eat_ the other. It wasn’t confirmed who actually ate who, but the next day, had you searched, you’d have found two very satiated Kings lying in one of the city’s hotel rooms…

 


End file.
